We are all a little different and a tad-bit crooked at Christmas time. Some are crushingly entangled in the cries of despair as they whisper terrifying secrets of sorrow when no-one else can hear. Despair is heightened at a time that should be substituted with joy and merriment. For some, it may seem as though the lights on their Christmas trees cold-heartedly burns away all that they had prayed for, and as the countdown to the most enchanting time of the year begins, the promise of magic for Christmas begins to fade. A miraculous time where anything is possible, and everything is imaginable, might now seem implausible. All that they really want, is to run away from it all, while anxious to hide from anything Christmas. Some were crushed by the things that have come undone throughout the year; things that they just cannot cast aside for now, not even for Christmas. Some have tried so many ways to stand up and remain strong, but for the most part of the year, their desperate efforts have been discarded, denied and just-not-enough. Their storms are so much more tempestuous, and their nightmares are so much more terrifying during Christmas, than ever before.
But at Christmas time, we are all the same. The wealthy and the poor feel and sense the same. They fear the same, and they agonize the same. They love the same and they lose the same. They need the same and they dream the same. The Spirit of Christmas does not adapt to who we are or what we do. It does not differentiate between a name or an address. It does not discriminate between refinement or elegance. Christmas miracles are not selective, and it does not choose its beneficiary based on success or achievements that are of this world. We are all in line for a miracle. We are chosen impartially for a little bit of magic; perhaps some are chosen to be the giver of a miracle or perhaps, a miracle is out there, chosen just for you to receive. But, what we cannot deny is, the joy it brings to give and to receive. So, why can’t we be both? Why can’t we give even if we have nothing to give?
Let’s be a bucket-full of different and a truck-load of crooked this year. Let’s give of us, even if we can’t give things. Let’s be instead. Let’s be who someone needs. Let’s be an answer to a prayer. Let’s not think this Christmas, let’s just feel. Let’s listen for the messages to our souls. Let’s hear their pleadings above the noises of this world. Let us listen for the things they are not saying. Let’s say thank you for our miracles and let us say it loud and clear by being someone else’s miracle this Christmas. Let us be a bucket-full of different and a truck-load of crooked this year, this Christmas, just this once.
There are those who crawl with blood on their knees; let’s kick away the stones underneath them. There are those whose feet are tired when they fall, let’s place a pillow there for them to lay down on. There are those who run, desperate to escape the hardships of this world, let’s grab firmly onto them so that they can stop to breathe. There are those who are ashamed of and desperate to mask their failures, let’s seek them out and guide them back to their worth. There are those without love and who are alone, let’s place an arm around them and hold them tightly against us, for just a little longer than is necessary. There are those who are apart from those that they yearn for, let’s listen to their silence and hear what they are not saying. There are those that are so overawed and misplaced, let’s turn on a light for them … they might just need it as they fight their way back into their place in this world. There are those who are cold, let’s light a fire to keep them warm. There are those enslaved by fear, let’s show up for them, and be their courage. Let’s forgive the sinners and let’s imitate the saints.
Just for Christmas. Just for the miracle of Christmas. Just for the belief of something magical about Christmas. Just so that the Spirit of Christmas can find them again. Just for those who have lost all hope and struggle with faith during Christmas time.
Someday, it might be you that wakes up; entirely defeated, tired, worn, sad, lonely, cold and utterly unsure of how to get through the days leading up to Christmas. You might not even know how to navigate from one moment to the next, and you might ramble around in a misty fog, frenetic to simply survive the waves that are drowning you. Life happens; everything can change and all that you have, can be gone in the blink of any eye and without any notice or prior warning. Life can be unjust and cruel; it can sweep in like an erratic hurricane, and leave a path of destruction you might not even see coming. Devastation is not a punishment for something you might have done wrong in the past; wicked things happen to decent people. The tragedies that exist in this world, might find a way to make it your turn, and there is not much you can do to stop it. It will beat you down and then it will trample you as you try to get back up on your feet. It will show you no mercy and it will never care that you did your best. It will never care how you tried to be your very best self, not only for you, but for others too. You might have been a miracle to others a thousand times before, but when calamity sets its sights on you, there is nothing you can do to escape it. And, as you desperately crawl your way out just to show up for Christmas, there might just be a hand that reaches out for you. Someone else might have asked for a miracle for you. It was a prayer meant for you because, just as you were once magical for someone else, another soul was asked to be your miracle for Christmas.